Drabbling in the Games
by Andalee
Summary: A series of drabbles for Geth's 24 word challenge.
1. Promise: Marvel, District 1

**Promise**

"You have to win, Marvel!" Emerald pleaded. "I need you to come home… why did you volunteer?" Tears flowed down her cheeks, but she didn't wipe them, she just continued holding my hands in both of hers.

I smiled softly, and tried to pull my hands out of hers. "I'll try, Em."

She squeezed my hands tighter. "You have to promise," she insisted.

"I promise."

Two simple words, and I destroyed Em's life. I _promised_ to return to her, and now that stupid fire-girl has shot me with an arrow; I know I'm taking my final breaths.

"I promise..." I gasp, not sure what I am saying, not sure if the cameras can even hear me, but it doesn't matter anymore, the world is gone, and I am too.

* * *

**This is my story/entry for Geth's 20 words (well, now it's 24 words) challenge. (.net/topic/65298/18313543/1/). I'm writing a one-shot based around each of the words, one for each tribute in the 74th Hunger Games. Next update will be tomorrow, September 9. (9/9/09!)  
**


	2. Opal: Glimmer, District 1

**Opal**

I slump back in my chair while my prep team fawns over me, glad for the break after the coaching my mentor has given me.

"You must be a chameleon!" My mentor kept saying, "Be sexy, desirable in the interview, but in the arena, be _ruthless_."

She wants me to be some sort of extinct animal? I laugh. Yeah, right.

My stylist walks in right then. "In a good mood for the interview?" she asks, and I smile coolly in response.

She smiles too, and unzips the garment bag she's holding to show me my dress.

It's amazing, almost translucent, with hundreds of tiny opals woven into the fabric, so it sparkles as I finger the fabric.

She slips it over my head, and I gasp.

I will be a chameleon in this dress, with the multitudes of colors the opals are casting all around me. I smile at my reflection in the mirror. With this getup, how can I lose?

* * *

**I rewrote this one about seven gazillion times, so I'd be really interested in seeing what you thought of it! Next update will be tomorrow, September 10th.  
**


	3. Chair: Clove, District 2

**Chair**

After Claudius Templesmith announces that both Cato and I can win if we're the last two alive, I want to say something to Cato, to prove that I am worthy to be his final ally.

"I can kill someone six different ways with a chair." I blurt. Where the hell did that come from? I wish I could take my words back, but Cato has glanced up, looking mildly interested. I rush on, trying not to sound like a fool. "Just hit them with it, to break their neck or back, or poke them in the eyes with the legs…" I trail off at his look. "What?"

"Clove, that would only help if there were chairs in the arena," he says with a smirk, and goes back to sharpening his knife.

Now I've made myself a total idiot in front of the whole country. Damn.


	4. Belt: Cato, District 2

**Belt**

My father owned a belt that he always said was extremely lucky. He never wore it, so on the first reaping after his death, I took it and wore it to the drawing of the names. It was because of the belt that I was first onstage, I knew it. So, when it came time to choose my district token, that's what I picked.

But now, as I lie in the Cornucopia, being eaten alive by these horrible mutts, I realize my mistake. The mutts dragged me in here by my belt.

I moan as I remember that my father never said if the luck the belt brought was good or not. I hear a voice: "Make it count," and I sense that the girl from district 12 is looking at me. "Please!" I yell, but I don't think she hears.

Then I feel the arrow, and I know that I'm dead.

* * *

**The end to this one is rather blunt, but I think it fits Cato's personality. Any comments?**


	5. Colors: Girl, District 3

**Colors**

I take deep breaths as my metal plate rises towards the arena. I mentally prepare for the horrors to come, but as the arena comes into view, I am taken by the boldness of the colors, so unlike the gray and brown of District 3, or even the eye-popping hues of the Capitol.

Out here, untouched by anyone but the Gamemakers, the colors are so pure. The Capitol's colors were bold, of course, but their bright gaudiness has nothing on the natural world.

Dimly, I hear someone behind me. Has the gong already sounded? Apparently so, because in the next second, I feel a knife in my neck and the world goes black.

I cry out in anguish, not because of the pain, but because of the loss of those amazing colors.

**I tried to make this one really deep... but it kind of failed. I don't particularly like the way I ended up writing it, but I love the idea I was trying to express. Your thoughts?**


	6. Picture: Boy, District 3

**Picture**

We're almost all the way back to the supplies when we hear the mines blow. I freeze, and begin cursing. My survival depends on this, more so than the other Careers.

Cato sprints ahead of us, ignoring our calls to slow down, to be careful, that it might be a trap.

When he sees the smoking pile that was once food and equipment, he tears at his hair and has a temper tantrum worse than any two-year-old's.

I scoop up a few rocks, and toss them into the wreckage. After no mines go off, I tentatively say, "It's safe to go in." I debate running now, versus later, but Clove stands right behind me, cutting off any escape.

We walk through the mess in silence, finding nothing worth saving, and it's my fault. The mines worked too perfectly. I'm as good as dead.

Cato comes to this realization at the same time I do, and I cringe when he whirls on me, shouting terrible things.

Clove and Marvel step back, staying well out of Cato's way. Clove is smiling slightly, looking almost hungry. It chills me to think she is excited to see me die.

I suddenly seize my chance and begin to run, but Cato already has me in a headlock.

In the split second before he breaks my neck, a picture is etched onto my eyes. The girl from 12, the one Cato wants to kill so badly, is hidden under a bush, shaking. I try to tell him, but he sharply jerks my head to the side, and the picture is gone.


	7. Hope: Girl, District 4

**Hope**

I'm considered a Career, even if I didn't volunteer, which is why I joined up with Cato and his gang. I never regretted doing that, hoping it would help me win. But now, I'm starting to wish I'd gone off on my own.

Why? Well, we're sitting under a tree, waiting for Miss I'm-On-Fire to climb or fall down. I hope I get to kill her. The District 4 tribute killing the fire girl? It would be fitting irony.

To make it worse, I end up with watch. A few hours after everyone else drops off, I fall asleep, too. Nothing can happen, right? Wrong.

I wake up when I'm suddenly being stung by hundreds of tiny insects. The stings start swelling, and I realize that they're tracker jackers. That stupid girl dropped them on us!

Some of the others head towards the lake, and I stumble after them. Almost immediately, however, I fall. I manage to crawl forward a few feet, but I soon can't move at all.

As I breathe in one last time, I hope there's something better I'm going to, something completely unlike these Games.

**This one didn't turn out quite like I intended... **


	8. Gratitude: Boy, District 4

**Gratitude**

The gong sounds, and unlike my predictions, I am not the first one to get a weapon. The girl from Six is cutting my arm with a short knife. I had no chance to grab anything yet. I am completely defenseless, so I lunge for her knife.

It slides in between my ribs, and I gasp at the cold metal, but I rip it out anyway. I attack her now, losing blood dangerously fast.

I manage to cut her hard in the shoulder, and with all of these competitors, I know she'll be in the sky tonight. Of course, I will too, but I might as well have one kill to my name.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I can't breathe. I sink to the ground, and my final thought is of gratitude at the swiftness of my death.


	9. Determination: Boy, District 5

**Determination**

When my name is called at the reaping, no hands reach forward to comfort me. No mother cries on the edge of the square. No brothers volunteer to take my place. I am all alone. I would be; I'm from the community home.

But I am determined to go down in the history of Panem. I will win, or come as close as I possibly can.

No. I _will_ win. There is no "come close".

In the Capitol, my mentor has very few pointers. He won mostly out of pure luck, a bit of which I hope will rub off. My stylist designs an outfit that, any other year, would have been comparable to that of District 1's, but District 12's stylist's outfits literally outshone mine.

I could be angry, but I have decided to let it go. They can pay for it in the arena, because if I don't win, I'm determined that neither of them will.

**Originally, this was Foxface's, but then I had a brilliant idea for hers, and it wouldn't work for D-5's boy, so he ended up with this one. I think it still works... do you?**

**Oh, I can't wait until you see Foxface's... but it will be a few days, sorry!  
**


	10. Book: Foxface, District 5

**Book**

The last few hours are a total blur, and I don't want to remember any specifics. My name was called at the reaping. No one took my place, or that of the boy's. We're both from the community home, so they're _glad_ to be rid of us_._

I don't expect any visitors in the hour allotted, but I'm surprised to see that Jem, the woman who runs the girls' dorm at the Community Home, (or the CoHo, as it's known here in District 5,) has come to see me.

She stands awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, then gathers herself together and comes and sits next to me.

"I'm sorry," she says simply, and says nothing more.

I watch the large, ornate clock on the wall as my hour ticks down. Jem and I sit there for over fifty minutes, when suddenly I remember something.

I seize Jem's shoulder. "My book!" I cry, and she looks startled.

"What?" she asks, looking puzzled.

"I have a book… I took it from the library without permission," I say. "It's really old, and rare, and I'm sorry… but I needed you to know… so you didn't get in trouble." My voice becomes a whisper as I finish my statement.

Jem looks at me, her face softening. "It's alright… but…" her face crinkles up. "But what book did you take? Nothing of importance has disappeared recently."

I blink. This was not what I expected. "It's called _Twilight_… and it's from before even the Dark Days, so it must be valuable, right?"

Then I hear a noise never before uttered from the mouth of Jem. She's _laughing._

She pats my knee and smiles, again, something I've rarely seen her do. "That's fine. It wasn't very good anyway."

The Peacekeepers come in then, and take her away, and I'm left sitting there, speechless.

**See why this had to be Foxface? Feel free to flame this one... or, alternatively, to laugh at it! Or, you know, do both.**


	11. Trap: Boy, District 6

**Trap**

The gong sounded, and I sprinted forward to the Cornucopia. Strangely enough, the Careers weren't ahead of me. They were behind me.

I didn't pause to consider this. Maybe if I had, everything would have been different. But I didn't, because I spied a small pouch full of knives on the ground a few feet in front of me. _I might survive!_ I thought in elation.

I bent over to pick it up as I ran by, and it wasn't until then that I realized my mistake.

The monstrous Cato and his district partner, Clove, were right behind me.

Cato's face broke into a twisted smile, and he put on extra speed, and grabbed me from behind, cutting off my air supply.

At the same time, Clove grabbed the knives and pulled one out. With a grin much scarier than Cato's, she slid the knife into my body.

As I faded due to pain, I thought, 'I fell for their stupid trap.'


	12. Home: Girl, District 6

**Home**

I have no chance of winning. I mean, did you see those boys? The ones from Two and Eleven? Not to mention the girls from One and Two. I get chills just thinking about them.

No, this is one trip I'll never return home from. At least not alive, not as me.

I spend the entire train ride to the Capitol thinking of my family. I wonder what went through their minds when I was chosen. How they held themselves together when I stood on that platform like an animal up for slaughter. I break down in tears when I wonder how they will go on without me.

While I am with the stylists, I tune out their meaningless babble and think of my friends. Will they replace me; find a new person to complete the group? Will they leave my lunch seat empty, as a memorial, or will they fill it immediately?

As my carriage is pulled through the streets of the Capitol, I plaster a smile on my face and act overjoyed for the crowd. But internally, all I feel is hatred. Hatred towards my fellow tributes. Hatred towards the Games, for forcing the innocent to die. Hatred towards my escort, for pulling _my_ name out of the bowl. Hatred for the Capitol, for ripping me out of my peaceful life at home, the only place I've ever known, and bringing me to this marvelous city just days before I am to die.

But I say none of this.

All too soon, I am in the arena, dizzy from loss of blood. I fall to the ground in agony, but my last words are ones of total, complete joy.

"I'm going home."


	13. Fly: Boy, District 7

**Fly**

Cato grunts. "-and now you die," he says as he hurls me across the plain.

Time seems to slow as I flop through the air, my feet flying over my head as I tumble through the sky.

'Flying is fun,' I find myself thinking. And it's true. I feel so free, so relaxed up here, with the wind rushing all about me, I'm not even afraid of the inevitable landing. I know I'll die at some point today, so why not have one last bit of fun before I do?

But all too soon, I feel myself falling, not flying, and I laugh in exhilaration all the way to the ground.

**Yes, I realize this is short, but I like it that way. If I added more to the beginning or end, I think it would taint it… so that's it. And sorry for the update taking so long... Thanks for reminding me, Geth, as I forgot I had already written this a while ago... and thought an update was needed, after so long. (Oh yeah, and Happy New Year.)  
**


	14. Legendary: Girl, District 7

**Legendary**

I'll admit, when my name was called out at the reaping, I was a little excited. I was finally going to meet the legendary Johanna Mason, who had been my hero since she won the Games. She was District Seven's first female victor, so how could I not look up to her?

I met Johanna on the train. She acted just the way she's shown on the TV: quick, smart, with a sharp tongue and a fierce personality.

Johanna's plan for me was the same as hers: appear weak and snivelly (I'd done a good job of that at the reaping, much to my dismay,) but once the Games get going, kill them all.

Honestly, that plan had only worked for her. Everyone expected it now, so how would I win with it? So in secret I came up with my own plan: rush out with a bang, wiping them out as I went along. Johanna had become legendary, but once I met her, I realized that the person could never live up to the legend.

So in the 74th Hunger Games, I will become the legendary Amanda Murray, the tribute from Seven who disobeyed her mentor and survived to tell the tale.


	15. Blood: Boy, District 8

**Blood**

Blood. It's all over my hands. I stare at them in horror, barely even aware of the battle raging around me. Whose blood is this, anyway?

Slowly, I look down at my feet. A girl's body is crumpled there. I killed her. I don't know her name, not even her district.

It's horrible.

I did this? This- this- deed. I don't even know what to call it. It is then that my mind snaps, and I sink to my knees next to the dead girl's body. I stroke her hair and mumble to her, but I don't know how much of what I'm saying is real or not.

With a jerk, the girl's arm shoots out and she grabs my throat. She says something, a pained look on her face, and I vaguely feel her hand constrict. But I don't care.

I'll be gone soon, anyway, and so will she.

**Note: I'm terribly sorry for not updating any sooner, I took a long hiatus to get back into "real life" but the rest of these should be up once a week until they've all been posted. **


	16. Yell: Girl, District 8

**Yell**

I start a fire that first night. I know it's stupid, but I never expected it to be this _cold_. I must have fallen asleep, because I don't even hear the Careers approaching.

I try to run. I try to yell, yell with all my might, but they just laugh and joke.

One stabs me, and I feel my life ebbing away. I'm not dead, not just yet, but they obviously think I am. My heart swells, and I could yell with happiness, but I hear footsteps. One of them is coming back to finish me off.

It's the boy who returns, the one who loves the girl from his district.

I try to move away, but it hurts to even breathe. I yell at him, "Don't kill me!" but it comes out a whisper.

He shakes his head. "I have to kill you," he says simply, and sticks his knife into me.


End file.
